


take all that pain and turn it into love

by mothicalcreatures



Series: together we are found [1]
Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, it's 1850 PTSD who?, not openly discussed natch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22842007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothicalcreatures/pseuds/mothicalcreatures
Summary: James wrapped his arms around Solomon, drawing him in, and Solomon allowed himself to sink into the embrace. He’d never imagined that his life would end up this way, so comfortably attached to a senior officer of the Royal Navy.
Relationships: Commander James Fitzjames/Sgt Solomon Tozer
Series: together we are found [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2015398
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	take all that pain and turn it into love

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [If I like a thing, I like it, that's enough](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22395052) by [Gwerfel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwerfel/pseuds/Gwerfel). 



> Shout out to [drowninglovers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowninglovers) for betaing this.
> 
> Ever since I read "If I like a thing, I like it, that's enough" I have not been able to get the idea of "What if they _continued_ this? And emotions got involved?" out of my head. So here you go. Emotions.
> 
> Title is from Fire by Kimya Dawson.

Pain ripped through Tozer’s shoulder as the musket ball struck him and the world flashed with canon fire. The face of the man who’d shot him was obscured by the deep arctic night, but Solomon knew who it was, for all he couldn’t recall his name. One of those blasted mutineers he’d had the misfortune to throw his lots in with, before he’d been encouraged, ever so gently, to have faith in Captain Fitzjames, if not Crozier.

Another canon shot, closer, lit up the face of his assailant and mutineer it was no longer. Now the creature labored above him and his stomach rolled with fear, revulsion and nausea and he felt his soul begin to detach.

He retched, and came to the sudden waking awareness that he was overwhelmingly and unbearably hot and tangled in his bed sheets as he unceremoniously vomited over the side of his bed.

Solomon felt the bed shift behind him as the world gradually came back into focus. He was in England, in the small house he shared with Captain James Fitzjames, in the bedroom that he _also_ shared with James, at least when they didn’t have guests.

Gentle hands pulled him back from the edge of the bed, turning him around and then foisting a glass of water on him, which he accepted gratefully.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he muttered passing the now empty cup of water back to James, who deposited it on the bedside table. 

James shook his head. “I wasn’t sleeping particularly peacefully either, but you seem to have had it worse.”

“I dreamed about getting shot, and the creature again.” He didn’t think he would ever not be haunted by the creature as a thing that stole souls.

James wrapped his arms around Solomon, drawing him in, and Solomon allowed himself to sink into the embrace. He’d never imagined that his life would end up this way, so comfortably attached to a senior officer of the Royal Navy. If someone had told Solomon ten years ago that a few chance liaisons with a newly minted lieutenant would see him actually falling in love and settling down he’d have told them to fuck right off. But here they were, with that lieutenant now a captain and Solomon living a more domestic life than he’d ever imagined.

James shifted ever so slightly and suddenly the pressure on Solomon’s bad shoulder was too much to bear and he pushed away.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Are you all right?” James asked.

Solomon nodded. “Yeah. I think I just slept on it wrong. It’s been hurting since I woke up.”

“Do you need laudanum?”

James had already started getting out of bed when Solomon caught him by the wrist to stop him. “No. It’s not that bad.” It would be nice, but he didn’t want to sleep and, more importantly, he didn’t want James to leave.

As in his dream, Tozer _had_ taken a shot to the right shoulder, during the creature’s last attack when the mutineers had fled. He’d lived, obviously, but his shoulder had been destroyed, and while he’d kept the arm, it was a bit useless for anything but the most mundane tasks. It had been clear as anything when he finally came out of his laudanum induced haze aboard the _Enterprise_ that his days as a marine were over. It stung, to have all his years in the service made worthless from a single injury, but it was slowly becoming easier to bear.

James settled back down on the bed. “Will you tell me if you do need it?”

“ _If_ I need it,” Solomon promised, maneuvering himself with only his left arm to lay back down.

He must have fallen asleep again at some point, because when Tozer next opened his eyes it was morning, James was gone and the mess of sick from the night before had been cleaned up. His shoulder still hurt, but not quite so badly, which was a decided improvement.

The practical part of him, the part of him that reminded him that he was technical employed, however nominally, by James as a handy man and groundskeeper, said that he should get up and get on with his day. But the bed was soft and he was comfortable, and after stretching his arm and shoulder a bit, just to see what he could manage, he decided that he could start his day later than usual. The garden wasn’t going anywhere and nothing was in pressing need of fixing. Tozer would likely spend most of the day in the shed that also doubled as his carpentry workshop, brushing up on rusty skills and relearning how to use his right arm.

He was about to roll over and pull the blankets over his head when the door to the room opened, which had him propping himself up on his elbow instead.

James was rather precariously balancing a tray of tea and food on one hand, while using the other to manage both the door and his cane. Solomon sighed and hauled himself up out of bed to take the tray from James before he dropped either it or himself, or both.

“I could have…” James began, but Solomon just raised his eyebrows in a clear message of “Are you sure?”

Solomon stepped back and deposited the tray on the bed. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know,” James said, leaning his cane against bedside table before sitting down on the bed, careful of jostling the tray. “I just figured we both needed it after last night. Well, that and I gave Margaret the day off. Her mother’s taken ill and she’s got young siblings that need cared for.”

“You’re going to wind up with girls fighting to be in your employ,” Solomon said wryly, joining James on the bed and plucking a bread roll from the tray. “Light on punishment, fair with time off — uninterested in their virtue.”

James laughed. “They’ll be most disappointed when they find out I don’t intend to keep a full staff.”

“I don’t think I’d know how to live in a fully staffed house, if you did,” Solomon said, taking a bite of the roll and chewing thoughtfully. “This place is already a good deal fancier then where I’m used to living.”

James was quiet a moment before he asked. “You are happy here, aren’t you?”

The worry in James’ voice did unpleasant things to Solomon’s stomach and he dropped the roll back on the tray in favor of grabbing James’ hand to pull him closer to him. “I am. Very happy. It’s just going to take some adjusting is all. I’ve spent most of my life in barracks or on a ship, living in a cozy little place like this is nice and all, but it’s very different.”

James relaxed. “I’m glad. I’ve worried that my asking you to live here with me has kept you from places you’d rather be. Finding better work, being with your family…”

“My family’s all the way up in Cheltenham now,” Solomon said. “Going to see them would take some doing even I was still looking for work.”

His best chances for work would still be in London and the surrounding areas. He would have stayed there looking if James hadn’t offered him a place to live and what amounted to more of an allowance than a salary. The chance to continue the relationship that had really properly begun in the Arctic would likely have been enticement enough. James had kept him grounded and offered comfort through all their horrors, it tied his stomach up in knots to think that he’d nearly lost all that by throwing his lot in with Hickey.

James carefully maneuvered around their tray of breakfast, which was starting to grow cold, to slot himself against Tozer. “What’s troubling you?”

Solomon hadn’t meant for his thoughts to get so dark, but they snuck up on him frequently. “How I almost ruined everything by joining up with Hickey. Even after all we’d… all you’d…”

He could feel tears building behind his eyes and he tried to pull his hand away from James’ to wipe at them, but James just squeezed his hand tighter.

“I don’t blame you for being frightened,” James said. “For feeling helpless, for losing faith, and Hickey was good at saying what he thought you’d want to hear.”

James raised Tozer’s hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles. “You still came back to me. You knew something wasn’t right. There are surely captains who deserve their mutinies but Hickey was just a rat.”

Solomon’s breath caught on a sob and James was quick to embrace him fully. Solomon buried his face in the crook of James’ shoulder, shaking as he cried quietly.

It really was a wonder that he had this, Solomon thought. A wonderthat James had given him such attentions when they had been so separated by both ship and rank in the Arctic, a wonder that James had not only cared about Tozer, but about the people Tozer cared about as well. After Heather’s death during the disaster of Carnivale, when Solomon had broken down in James’ cabin. James had, through his own grief, just held him and cried with him, assuring Tozer that he’d done everything he could.

Tozer was pulled out of his thoughts when James pressed a light kiss to his hair and began speaking again.

“You know, we could invite your family to stay with us for a while. You talk about them so fondly and I know you’ve not had a chance to see them since we’ve been back.”He paused a moment, running his fingers through Solomon’s hair. “We do have the space for guests, although… perhaps not everyone at once. How many siblings do you have?”

Solomon sniffled and gave a wet chuckle, glad that James had steered them back into happier territory.“Thirteen, but it is just my mum and Charley at home now.”

“That’s perfect then,” James said. “You can let them know when you write them next.”

James shifted back so he could see Tozer properly, which gave Solomon the chance to wipe at his eyes. “Feeling any better?”

“A bit, yeah,” Solomon said. It was odd how much better a man could feel after crying.

“Shall we try for breakfast then, before everything’s gone completely cold?”

Solomon’s stomach grumbled in response and James chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

As James pulled away to draw the tray closer to them, Solomon caught him by the wrist, as he’d done the night before. He leaned in and kissed James, only a little desperate. It didn’t last long, but Tozer paused to rest his forehead against James’ before pulling away. “Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Historical notes: 
> 
> 1\. Solomon Tozer really was one of fourteen children.  
> 2\. "Charley" Is Catherine Tozer, the youngest daughter. She was probably the only child left at home in 1850.  
> 3\. Tozer's dad died in 1836, hence why only mama Tozer is mentioned.


End file.
